


Nothing Illegal Going On Here (aka Parker luck)

by graceandfire



Series: Bar Hookups the Universe Really Needs [3]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, Mobsters, See Notes at the beginning of this fic!, Sexual Intimidation, Threats to Peter, Wade Wilson is scary when he wants to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-07-31 11:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20114293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceandfire/pseuds/graceandfire
Summary: Set in an AU where no one has powers.  Peter Parker is still a struggling college student and lucks into a job bartending at Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls, a high class nightclub which is clearly in no way a front for criminal activities.He also has a monster crush on the owner, Wade Wilson but he can totally repress that.  Totally.Please note this is so completely different from my gen, fluffy, other Spider-Man fic.SEE BEGINNING NOTES******************Wade herded Peter down the hallway, large hand at the nape of his neck, gently but inexorably moving him forward.“Uh, Mr. Wilson, what exactly did you mean by ‘Take care of’?  Because that could be interpreted in multiple different ways and…”“Shh, Petey.” The hand at his neck tightened briefly and Peter tried desperately to take that as a reassuring squeeze and not a threatening one.  “We’re just going to have a conversation.”“We can do that in the main room,” Peter tried.  He was attempting to walk slower but Wade was like an unstoppable train.  Ushering him to his doom.Wade chuckled.  “Petey, if I was planning to do something to you, no one in that room would stop me.”Oh, God.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, Wade is a scary bad guy in this fic but he is trying to tone it down around Peter. There are definitely threats made to and intimidation of Peter by Wade, including sexual intimidation, but Peter doesn't actually get hurt.
> 
> This is fantasy and of course this would not be okay in real life.
> 
> Okay, whew, hopefully I've warned enough. Enjoy!

Peter sat in the office and tried not to stare at the man across from him, sitting behind the big glossy desk. He really needed this job and if the big boss of his potential new gig somehow set every nerve in Peter’s body humming just with a warm, friendly smile and a simple, “So tell me about yourself, Peter,” that was his own problem which he would repress, repress, repress.

Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Girls was a high class bar. The tips should be great which was a way important fact because Peter was behind on rent and needed to come up with next semester’s tuition _ soon_. 

So, focus, Parker. Focus.

“Yes, sir. I’m in my third year at NYU--I’m doing a double major in chemistry and biology--and I’m a really hard worker. While I’ve never previously done bartending, I’m a quick study and I have years of experience in the food service industry. You’ll see references there from Rosa’s Pizzeria and Juan’s Taco Stand.”

Mr. Wilson smiled, eyes crinkling. “Juan’s? Good tacos.”

“Yes! Super great, really great, tacos.” Peter agreed with a grin which he quickly dropped, suppressing the wince because he was pretty sure he had just sounded like a dork.

“And, you just turned twenty-one?” The other man studied him speculatively and Peter did his best to ignore the heat in his stomach at the innocent question.

“Yes! Uhm, totally legal,” Peter babbled, “uhm, for working in a bar I mean.”

“Hmm,” Mr. Wilson looked back down at Peter’s resume and Peter took the opportunity to stare because, wow. The guy was big in an overwhelming, tall, muscled, zero fat, way. He wasn’t overly bulked up like some of the body builders at the campus gym where Peter worked out but was more just...big, broad shouldered and perfect. And he was gorgeous, the scar running across the right side of his face not detracting at all from his good looks. Peter had wondered why the big boss--and Peter’s friend, Joey, had said Mr. Wilson owned a bunch of other places too--would interview a part time bartender personally but the head bartender, Weasel, had let him know that it was standard practice. “Yeah, Wade likes to vett everyone himself. He’s kind of an asshole, control freak that way.”

The control freak in question looked up. “Okay, Peter. Important question.”

Peter straightened up. “Yes, sir?”

“What superpower would you wish for and why?”

“Uh, sir?”

Mr. Wilson didn’t bother repeating himself, just stared at Peter with a mild, expectant smile.

Peter blinked and thought about it. “I...I’d like to fly. I like heights and it would be really cool to fly through the city and I could maybe use it to help people.”

Mr. Wilson stared at him, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Peter Parker, you are too good.”

Was that bad?

And then Mr. Wilson smiled again, wry and warm. “Okay, you’re hired. When can you start?”

“Oh! Thanks! Thank you, Mr. Wilson! I can start today!”

"Call me Wade.”

“Yes, sir!”

That had been three months ago and Peter’s life was actually going smoothly for a change. The tips were good at Sister Margaret’s. Good enough that after he’d proven himself and been given more hours he’d been able to catch up on rent and had a chunk of his tuition squirreled away. They were also flexible about his classes and let him take a couple days off before big exams. With the added bonus of the free food that Weasel tended to give him--Joey being Weasel’s nephew and referring him had turned out to be an awesome stroke of luck--this had turned out to be the best job ever. 

And then there was the monster crush he had on the owner of the bar. He was continuing to repress the shit out of that. Maybe he wasn’t a stick thin bully magnet anymore—hours at the gym had finally given him a lean but decently muscled physique—but Wade Wilson was still way out of his league. 

But the guy was just so nice which wasn’t doing anything to help with the crush. Mr. Wilson always asked Peter how he was doing when he came into the bar, sounding genuinely interested; asked about his classes and his aunt. Sometimes after closing he’d sit at the bar and have Peter pour him a whiskey, neat--he had a taste for Laphroaig--changing it up once in a while to Aviation gin on the rocks instead.

His wry, warm smile always made heat pool in Peter’s stomach as did the way Mr. Wilson--”seriously, call me Wade”--had taken to calling him Petey and he had to try really, really hard not to babble uncontrollably in the face of it, which he sometimes failed at, but Wade--Peter sometimes still forgot and called him Mr. Wilson--seemed to find it amusing at least and not irritating.

So, yeah, this job was awesome even though he was tired as hell right now and he had two papers to write by next Monday. He should have been home already working on them and he’d almost gotten there when he realized he’d forgotten his biochem textbook in his locker at work which was why he was heading back and, man, this was an hour of his life he was never getting back.

Finally making it back to Sister Margaret's, Peter scanned his badge at the back entrance and punched in the secondary security control code, entering the long hallway. The employee locker room was deserted and he hastily grabbed the offending textbook from where it had fallen to the bottom of his locker and gotten covered by a t-shirt, stuffing it into his backpack. Giving a tired sigh he started to head back out when he heard the noise. 

Pausing, Peter frowned. That had sounded like...was that a scream? That was silly but it _ had _sounded like...there shouldn’t even be anyone here. It was going on five in the morning. The bar closed at two and usually everyone was out by four at the latest. He heard another sharp sound and, after hesitating, turned to walk to the main bar where it had seemed to come from to make sure everything was okay.

He traced the sound to one of the private rooms in the bar and he stood at its door and cautiously pushed it open an inch, some latent warning signal going off in his brain keeping him quiet. 

The sight that met him had him freezing. Although there were other people in the room it was Wade his gaze was immediately drawn to. Wade looked...different. Scary. He was smiling like he almost always was but this time there was a violent edge to it and he was holding a gun. He was _holding a gun_. And there was...Peter let out a choking gasp because there was a body lying on the ground. A dead body. He was pretty sure it was a dead body. He looked up at Wade again and felt a searing stab of panic because Wade was looking right back at him through the small gap. 

Peter blinked and, before he could react, the door swung open all the way and he stood, exposed to the inhabitants of the room.

“Petey.” Wade had lost his smile and was viewing him with a hard, unreadable expression. “This is unfortunate.”

Vanessa was there too, the bar’s beautiful and poised hostess looking at Peter from where she was leaning against a table with raised eyebrows and an otherwise neutral expression, staying silent.

Domino, the bar’s head of security, just grinned at him, casually sheathing the knife she’d been holding. “Hey, Peter. Didn’t know you were still here.”

And Weasel...Weasel was staring at him with a slightly sick look. “Uh, Pete this is not what…” his head swiveled to look at Wade. “Big guy, we...there’s got to be…”

Wade held up a hand and Weasel stopped talking. “No worries, Weas. I’ll take care of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Okay, so there was a scene burning itself into my brain that would NOT. LET. GO. and finally I had to write it to get it out of my head. That's actually the next chapter that will be coming up *blush*. And I was only going to write that but then I had to write backstory and now I think I need to write endstory so, sigh, this will probably be about three chapters long maybe. 
> 
> Let me know if you like.
> 
> *Runs away*


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade herded Peter down the hallway, large hand at the nape of his neck, gently but inexorably moving him forward. 
> 
> “Uh, Mr. Wilson, what exactly did you mean by ‘Take care of’? Because that could be interpreted in multiple different ways and…”
> 
> “Shh, Petey.” The hand at his neck tightened briefly and Peter tried desperately to take that as a reassuring squeeze and not a threatening one. “We’re just going to have a conversation.”
> 
> “We can do that in the main room,” Peter tried. He was attempting to walk slower but Wade was like an unstoppable train. Ushering him to his doom.
> 
> Wade chuckled. “Petey, if I was planning to do something to you, no one in that room would stop me.”
> 
> Oh, God.

Wade herded Peter down the hallway, large hand at the nape of his neck, gently but inexorably moving him forward. 

“Uh, Mr. Wilson, what exactly did you mean by ‘Take care of’? Because that could be interpreted in multiple different ways and…”

“Shh, Petey.” The hand at his neck tightened briefly and Peter tried desperately to take that as a reassuring squeeze and not a threatening one. “We’re just going to have a conversation.”

“We can do that in the main room,” Peter tried. He was attempting to walk slower but Wade was like an unstoppable train. Ushering him to his doom.

Wade chuckled. “Petey, if I was planning to do something to you, no one in that room would stop me.”

Oh, God. They reached a door that Peter realized led up to Wade’s office. That was good, right? Wade wouldn’t want blood in his office. That would be really messy to clean up. Of course, Peter recalled from his months prior interview, the flooring in the office was wood and not carpeted so it probably wouldn’t be that hard to clean up.

Oh, God. Peter made a more significant effort to halt their progress on the stairs, unsubtly dragging his hands against the sides of the stairwell because he did _ not _ want to go into that room with Wade but their pace never faltered and then they were entering the spacious office and Wade was shutting the door behind them. He let Peter go, eyes never leaving him as Peter sprang away and then stopped, unsure of where to go while Wade reached back and engaged the lock with a soft, sinister snick.

Wade took a step forward. Peter took a step back. Wade took a step forward. Peter took another step back and then stopped because weakness caused predators to attack, right? And he was definitely feeling like prey right now. Except that didn’t mean Wade stopped. He kept taking slow, deliberate steps forward, still staring at Peter, the silence unnerving as he closed the distance. Peter almost vibrated with the need to retreat but he held his ground until Wade was inches away.

He glared up at the much bigger man. “You are in my personal space, Mr. Wilson.” Peter tried to make his voice authoritative but was pretty sure he didn’t succeed as Wade’s mouth quirked into the faintest of smiles although his normally friendly eyes remained cool. And then he started forward again and Peter was forced to step back or be mowed down and being on the floor—where he could be stomped on—seemed like a really bad idea so he retreated. Step by step he was reluctantly herded until finally his back hit the wall with a startled jolt and Wade crowded in almost, but not quite, touching him.

Caught between a hard place and Wade Wilson. Oh, fuck.

The other man had never seemed so large and intimidating as he slowly lifted a big hand to rest on Peter’s throat, thumb tracing softly against Peter’s pulse point. 

“Mr. Wilson…”

“I’ve told you to call me Wade, Peter.” His rough voice sent a shiver through Peter that the other man apparently noticed, given how his eyes darkened and his hand tightened briefly on Peter’s neck before loosening again.

“At that point in time you were not trying to intimidate me physically, mentally and emotionally,” Peter snapped because, fuck, he was scared and this was not fucking okay and, fuck, he’d been nursing a ridiculous _ crush _on this man, this really scary man, who was possibly about to do him extreme violence.

“And are you intimidated?” Wade asked, tilting his head in interest.

“Of course I am!” _ Asshole. _Peter sensibly managed to bite back the last word but he had a feeling his glare managed to convey it and that Wade was amused. 

Oh, great, he was providing amusement to the psychopath he’d been crushing on. Awesome.

“That’s good, Petey.” Wade smiled. “That’s really good. But are you intimidated enough to keep silent about what you saw down there? That’s the big prize money question.” The thumb kept sweeping back and forth, finding his rapid pulse, then moving, finding his pulse again. Peter bit back the urge to close his eyes and whimper.

“Yes.”

“Uh huh.”

“Look, I’m not going to say anything.” _ About you murdering someone. _

Wade looked skeptical. “You’re a boy scout, Petey. It’s adorable but inconvenient.”

“I...I’m not a Boy Scout. Why would you…”

“You gave that homeless guy all of your tip money last week and I know how broke you are.”

“That’s not...anyone would do that.”

“The grocery store put an extra carton of milk in your bag by mistake two months ago and you went back and paid for it.”

“Anyone would have done that _ too _ and, how do you even _ know _ about that?”

“You’re tutoring Garcia in English even though until recently you were still working two jobs and you’re going to school full time.”

Peter just stared. “You, uhm, know a lot about me.”

The thumb brushed lightly on his pulse again as Wade stared intently down at him. “I do know a lot about you, Petey. Partly because, in my line of work, it’s important to keep tabs on my employees but, mostly...well, to be honest, it’s mostly because ever since I met you I’ve wanted to bend you over a flat surface—any will do, really, like that one right there,” Wade turned Peter’s face gently to look at the big desk—“and fuck you until all you can remember is how to scream my name.” Peter couldn’t help the indrawn, shaky breath. “I wasn’t planning to do anything about it because you are _ way _ too squeaky clean and sweet to get mixed up with me but this…” Wade leaned in, mouth a whisper from Peter’s ear, warm breath sending a shiver down his spine, “...unfortunately, this is business, Peter.” 

“Now, the simple thing would be to unalive you.” The hand at his throat tightened its grip again.

“You don’t want to do that,” Peter gasped, distantly realizing he was hard and how fucked up was that, yeah, it was seriously fucked up. 

“Why not?” Wade sounded mildly curious.

“You...you would feel bad.”

“I unalive people all the time. Like the fucktard downstairs who decided he could steal from me.”

_ Okay, note to self. Never, ever steal from Wade Wilson. _

“But...you like me,” Peter tried.

“I want to fuck you. That’s different.” Unspoken was the threat that he could easily fuck Peter and then kill him.

“You like me too,” Peter argued. “I mean you like me as a human being and...just, you _ would _ feel bad.”

Wade narrowed his eyes but didn’t disagree. “I’d get over it.”

“It’s awkward to hide a dead body. You could be charged with my murder.”

“It’s actually not that hard to dispose of a body so it’s never found.”

“Oh...uh—I don’t know how to respond to that. I could be useful…”

Wade cocked his head, considering. “Could you now?”

“I…” Peter swallowed, feeling the pressure of Wade’s hand, feeling..._ everything _ in a heightened way that was almost painful. “I’m smart, I could…”

“Stop right there, Baby Boy. You and I both know you’re not the type to break the law.”

Wade was right of course but lie, lie, lie...“No, I could totally…”

The hand around his throat closed tighter, choking off Peter’s voice. He started to feel lightheaded, the hand letting him breath just enough to stay conscious. He reached out to push at Wade’s body with everything he had. Was not at all surprised when the other man didn’t even rock back. In response Wade just moved in closer and then his body was flush against Peter’s, hard and unyielding and Peter felt shame even in the face of imminent death at the knowledge that he was still hard and Wade, he could feel it.

And with their bodies lined up Peter could feel, oh shit, he could feel the other man’s hard on too... 

“What if I said I’d let you live if you let me bend you over that desk right now, Peter?” The tone of Wade’s voice had changed, had deepened almost into a growl, the threat taking on a different tone.

The other man shifted back enough for Peter to stare up into darkened eyes. This was a no brainer. If he let Wade fuck him he’d be more likely to let Peter live. Wouldn’t he? Hell, Peter might even get off seeing as how hard he was right now. Somehow his hind brain seemed hardwired to want this man even now that he knew he was fucking terrifying. 

“No.” It came out involuntarily but Peter didn’t, couldn’t, retract the word as he stared defiantly up at Wade’s predatory expression. 

“You’d rather be unalived, Petey?” The hand not at his throat reached down and palmed Peter’s erection between them, almost gentle as Peter bucked instinctively into the touch. “Think very carefully about your choices.”

Peter tried to find some kind of inner calm, didn’t succeed, but made his choice anyway. “I said no." He glared again. "Fuck _ yourself_, Wade.”

The hand around his throat squeezed tighter and Peter readied himself to fight. It wouldn’t do any good but, fuck if he was just going to let Wade Wilson...let him go?

Peter blinked, gasping in air as he watched Wade step back with an unreadable expression.

“You should go, Peter.”

“What?” Peter asked dazedly.

Wade’s voice was a growl, threat clear. “You should fucking _ go_. Now. Before I change my mind.”

Peter’s brain re-engaged and he warily moved towards the door, keeping the other man in his view the entire time. Unlocking it he paused at Wade’s low voiced, “Peter…”

“Yes?”

The smile was all threat.

“If you decide to report this to the police, you should know the body’s already gone. And I know where you live.”

Peter ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, it doesn't matter how many fics I post. When I do something new in a new fandom or different than before there is always that nervous, oh, man, hope people like it. So, thank you so much for all of you enabling enablers *beams*
> 
> As mentioned in the last chapter's notes, this is actually the chapter that was just burning in my brain that I had to write. This came first and then I was all...but...there has to be an explanation for how they get here so...Chapter 1. And then I was all...but it would be _mean_ to just leave it like this. Plus, I wanted to know what happened next, lol, so then came Chapters 3 & 4 (yeah, it ended up a little longer than originally planned). This fic is pretty much written and I'm just refining the heck out of it so the next post should be up this weekend.
> 
> Next chapter has some Wade POV.
> 
> Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade broods, Domino is lucky in any universe, and Peter, well, Peter is conflicted...about _sooo_ many things.

Wade sat at his desk and brooded.

He was not a nice guy. He didn’t hang out with nice people. He was a violent asshole and he hung out with other violent assholes. 

And that was how he liked it.

In fact, by the time he’d survived Francis’ brutal takeover attempt a couple years back, he’d pretty much hit sociopath levels and he was absofuckinglutely _ chill _ with that.

Wade liked violence. He was _ good _ at it. He knew the pleasure of breaking bones, of slicing flesh, knew the terror in a man’s face when he realized Wade would be the last thing on earth he’d see.

Wade was a nightmare.

And then there was Peter fucking Parker.

Wade liked Peter. The kid was sweet and adorable and nothing like any other part of Wade’s life. And, Jesus, _ fuck, _he wanted him. Had been wanting Peter since the day he’d sat across from Wade, all stammering, sweet smiles and goodness shooting out of him like a nerdy Care Bear. A hot nerdy Care Bear.

He’d been having fantasies about fucking that—sure to be pretty—ass across every handy surface in the club from day one.

Wade never should have hired him. Known it at the time but he figured, hey, maybe someone that good and pure would lighten up the place, bring some positive karma. 

And, shitbuckets, the kid was smart and funny. Wade enjoyed his sunny presence, enjoyed spending time with him, even with the torture of seeing Peter’s sweet, lanky body every day and knowing he was never going to tap that. 

Apparently he had latent masochistic tendencies.

Wade had wondered in the back of his mind how long his restraint would hold. He’d thought about firing Peter for his own good when he’d given Wade those bashful smiles and called him “Mr. Wilson” which just went directly to Wade’s dick _ every single time _ and Wade would barely refrain from grabbing the kid and hauling him over the bar and into his lap.

He’d known the others knew although no one except Vanessa had actually said anything. Her mild, “He’s a good worker, Wade, don’t break him,” her only comment.

Which he found offensive because, hey, the only lovers he’d ever actually broken were the ones who’d tried to kill him first. Fuckin’ _ Francis._

And then...he remembered the shock in Peter’s eyes when he’d stumbled across them as they finished DeFanto off. Remembered the shiver that had gone through Peter’s body when Wade had him against the wall. The panicky breathing when Wade closed his hand around that slender throat. 

And the kid had _ liked _it. 

Okay, no, the kid hadn’t liked it. He’d been straight up terrified. But he’d also been hard in spite of himself and that was such a massive turn on. Super sweet Peter Parker had been turned on by Wade being…Wade. He’d come so close to dragging Peter over to this desk and...Wade shook his head, staring into the glass of whiskey he’d poured himself but had yet to taste.

And then there was the fact that the kid was no pushover. Wade knew he was scary as fuck when he wanted to be. It had taken stainless steel balls for Peter to face up to Wade like that, to know that Wade could have broken him in two and still he’d tried to hold his ground. To tell him no.

It made Wade want him even more.

He closed his eyes and almost growled with frustration because this didn’t actually change anything. The kid was still way too good for him. He should just...

He heard the soft knock and watched Domino enter.

“So, no blood,” she observed, looking around the room.

“And?” Wade glared up at his head of security, swirling the glass of whiskey in his hand restlessly.

“So you didn’t kill the kid. Weasel will be relieved. He’s fond of him.”

“Aren’t we all?” He muttered.

“Yeah, well,” she grinned, “he's likeable.” She dropped into a semi military stance to make her report. “DeFanto’s been disappeared and the clean up crew has been through and scrubbed the place down. Even if Peter’s conscience gets the better of him, the police will have nothing to go on.”

“Peter’s not going to talk.”

“Mmm.”

Wade narrowed his eyes at the woman. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just, mmm.”

Wade glared at her, letting the threat slide into his eyes which, this being Domino, she just smiled as the effect slid right off of her.

“Look, I’m just saying your talk with the kid could maybe use some reinforcement. Once Peter gets home and he’s all safe and snug in his little rug he might get ideas and, well, it would be a shame if he decided to report this after all and we had to do something permanent about him.”

Wade stared at his annoying lieutenant. “Get out, Dom.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Domino answered cheerfully. 

Domino paused outside Wade’s door and smirked at the cursing heard even through the closed door. She still had seventeen hours before she lost the club betting pool of when Wade would give in and fuck pretty Peter. She walked away whistling. She’d always been lucky.

  
********************

Peter pulled on the sweatpants and t-shirt with a sigh of relief. This had been a massively fucked up day/night, whatever. His thoughts were still scrambling in circles like a gerbil in its wheel. He’d witnessed a murder. A murder which he had a civic duty to report. Didn’t he? But…what would happen if he did? Peter was smart enough to follow the trail down its logical path. Say the police even believed him. By the time he brought them back to Sister Margaret’s there’d be no body. He absolutely believed Mr. Wade fucking Wilson when he’d said it would be gone.

So he reported it to the police and then what? Then Wade, or maybe Domino or anyone who he’d come to think of as awesome people over the last three months could show up at his door to, in Wade’s words, unalive him.

And either way, how could he go back to work? Walk back in there like nothing had happened. But if he didn’t show up would they take that as a sign that he couldn’t be trusted and come for him?

His mind buzzing with anxiety Peter exited the bedroom and almost screamed. Because Mr. Wade fucking Wilson was leaning against the wall of Peter’s living room.

“Hey, Petey.”

“You, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Wade smirked at him. “Just came to check up on you. You looked a little stressed when you left the club.”

“Did I?” Peter asked incredulously. “I wonder why that is, Wade?” He turned and looked at his front door. He’d engaged the bolt lock and the safety chains as soon as he’d slammed into his apartment, hands still shaking. The locks looked fine, the safety chain hanging harmlessly but still functional. “How did you get in here? I...the door was locked.”

Wade grinned. “That is _ so _ cute that you think locks would stop me. You really need to upgrade them by the way.”

“I’ll...I’ll do that,” Peter swallowed as he looked at the closed door and looked at Wade again and wondered exactly what sort of locks would keep one Wade Wilson out. “So, what, you came here to threaten me again? Let me know how easy it would be to get to me?”

Wade shrugged. “Yes and no. I did come here to give you a reminder not to make bad choices. It would be really annoying if I had to unalive you after I went to all the trouble of letting you live. Also,” he held out Peter’s backpack, “you left this at the club. Figured you’d want it.”

Peter warily reached out and took the bag. In the stress of the past couple hours he hadn’t even registered that he must have dropped it. Stupid textbook. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

Peter waited a beat but Wade didn’t speak, just watched him which was unnerving because the Wade he’d gotten to know over the past few months liked to talk. New, scary as fuck, Wade apparently talked less.

“So then, if that’s all, thanks so much for the extra threats. Really appreciated and all but I’ve got homework to do.”

Peter tensed as Wade stepped away from the wall, hand reaching into his jacket, and then stared at the envelope Wade tossed onto the little dining table. 

“There’s ten grand in there.”

Peter stiffened. “So, it’s a bribe to keep quiet?”

“No, no. We’ve already established that I’ll just unalive you if you talk. I don’t need to bribe you. The cash is severance.”

Severance. “You’re...firing me?” Peter asked, confused.

“Yep. The cash should cover the rest of your tuition for next semester and a couple months rent.” Wade gestured at the envelope. “There’s also a card in there with a contact at Cable’s. It’s a good bar, you’ll make good tips. They could use another bartender and it’s above board. Cable doesn’t do illegal shit. If you don’t want to go there, Nessa will write you a recommendation.”

Peter stared at the envelope. “I don’t understand,” he said slowly, thoughts whirling in his tired brain. “You threaten to kill me but then you...what, why?”

Wade took another step forward and maybe Peter had been too traumatized by the past few hours and was numb at this point but he didn’t flinch as Wade approached him, stopping to loom over Peter. 

“Because, Peter. I actually do like you. You’re a good kid. You should have a nice life with a nice person.”

The older man smirked down at him. “And me? I am the opposite of nice. I will take your goodness and I will wreck it because I am an asshole. A violent, selfish asshole who is not normally into restraint. So, if you come back to my club, I am going to take you. And I am going to fuck you, in every room, on every surface. And then I’m going to do it all over again.”

Peter stared up at him. 

Wade’s smile widened. “Yeah, Baby Boy. Do you know how much I’ve wanted to haul you over the bar and just debauch the fuck out of you every single time you’ve called me Mr. Wilson?”

He shook his head. “So, here’s my one good deed for the century. Stay away from me, Peter. Stay very far away.”

Wade turned and started for the door. 

Peter stared at him. This, what...clearly he should, this was best. He could get away from all of this, he could forget the past few hours had ever happened, he could…

He watched Wade fucking Wilson leave and wondered what the fuck was wrong with him that the apartment suddenly felt lifeless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, clearly the next chapter is “Peter totally takes Wade’s advice and they never see each other again. The end.” 
> 
> It’s an efficient chapter. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wade,” the patience behind the word made it clear it was not the first time Nessa had said it.
> 
> “What?” Wade bit back the snarl because Nessa was not to be f----- with.
> 
> “We need to talk about shipments for next week. Do you want to...oh, hello, Peter.”
> 
> Wade’s head snapped up because no way in hell was...Peter f------ Parker was standing in the bar, uncertain smile aimed at Nessa.

“Wade,” the patience behind the word made it clear it was not the first time Nessa had said it.

“What?” Wade bit back the snarl because Nessa was not to be fucked with.

“We need to talk about shipments for next week. Do you want to...oh, hello, Peter.”

Wade’s head snapped up because no way in hell was...Peter fucking Parker was standing in the bar, uncertain smile aimed at Nessa. 

“Hi...uhm, hi, Vanessa,” Peter stammered awkwardly.

“What are you doing here, Peter?” Wade asked, anger turning his voice into a low growl because, fuck, he’d done the right thing, for _ once_. He’d tried to let the kid go. Peter had no clue what Wade would do...

“Hi, Mr. Wilson,” Peter met his eyes for a brief flicker and then looked at the floor. “I’m on shift tonight.”

Wade stood frozen. Petey surely hadn’t meant to...Wade had fucking told him what saying that did to him but…

He took a deep breath. “Peter,” he said carefully, “you really should consider what we discussed because I meant it. Our last conversation?”

Peter took his own deep breath and then jerked his head up to meet Wade’s gaze, nerves clear, but also determination. “I understood exactly what you said. Mr. Wilson.”

Fuck. FUCK.

Wade stared at Peter as he said, “Nessa.”

“Yes?” She inquired mildly.

“Peter’s not going to be working the bar tonight. I’ve got a side project I need him for.”

“Of course,” Nessa said agreeably. “I’ll just let Weasel know.”

Wade barely noticed as Nessa walked away—ignored her softly muttered, “Fucking Dom, always wins,”—never taking his eyes off of Peter as he tried to figure out what kind of drugs the kid was on.

“Petey. Peter. There are no take backs here. Do you understand that? If you change your mind, I don’t care.” He’d tried to do the right thing. He’d tried. Fuck if he was giving Peter up again. 

He watched Peter swallow. Watched as Peter took a step forward to look up at him with a determined glare. “I know what I’m doing. Mr. Wilson.”

No. No, the kid did not. But, fuck it, he was done trying to be the nice guy. Wade reached out and cupped a hand around the back of Peter’s neck. “Oh, Petey,” he purred, “we are going to continue this discussion in my office.”

**********

Peter felt Wade’s hand, heavy and inescapable at his neck and focused on breathing, trying to recapture the calm that he’d somehow found earlier and that was now very, very absent. Yes, Wade was scary. Yes, Wade had...actually killed a person, whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck, but Wade had also deliberately let Peter go. Had given him an out. Had said he’d wanted Peter just as much as Peter wanted Wade but had...let...him...go.

And, he, Peter had realized, did not want to be let go.

He’d argued with himself all the way to the club. Had been petrified when he’d seen Wade and Vanessa in the bar. Hadn’t been sure he’d be able to speak but he had. And he’d seen the way Wade’s eyes had darkened when he’d said “Mr. Wilson” and he...he was insane. Clearly.

The controlling hand marching him towards Wade’s office was deja vu. Only this time, it was a different sort of terror clouding Peter’s mind. He wasn’t afraid of Wade hurting him, or...oh, God, Wade wouldn’t really hurt him, right?...it was the thought of Wade—huge, scary, intimidating, sexy Wade—fucking him that had every nerve in his body strung tight. 

And, what if Peter was a disappointment? What if Wade realized that Peter was just a boring nerd and not that sexy and…

“Shhh, Petey. Whatever’s going through that brainy brain of yours, just let it go,” Wade whispered in Peter’s ear, “because it doesn’t fucking matter. You had your chance. Now? Now, I’m just going to wreck you.”

Peter felt every nerve in his body light up as they entered Wade’s office. As Wade reached back and snicked the lock, never loosening his grip on Peter’s neck. As Wade walked them forward to the large desk and bent Peter over without warning, positioning Peter’s hands flat on the desk. “Don’t. Move.”

Peter leaned over the desk, feeling his face flush as Wade’s hands reached around, unbuttoning Peter’s khakis, slowly tugging them down so that Peter was bent over in just his boxers. And then even those were gone as Wade slowly, methodically tugged his underwear down to pool at Peter’s feet.

“Oh.” The approval in Wade’s voice was a balm as Peter bent over, exposed. “Baby boy, I knew your ass would be pretty but...damn.”

A large hand palmed said ass, warm and calloused against sensitive skin. “Your ass is awesome, Petey. World class.” Peter didn’t know whether to blush from embarrassment or preen from the praise. He did both.

“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do this? From the very first day I fucking met you, Petey Pie.”

"The…you mean our interview?” Peter gasped out as Wade kept stroking big, rough hands over him, over and over, sending flushes of heat throughout his body.

“Oh, yeah. I wanted to reach across this desk and, well, do what I’m doing right now.” Wade reached between Peters legs to spread them a little wider. “Now, you stay right like that, Petey. Don’t move.”

Peter didn’t move. He watched from the corners of his eyes as Wade went to his desk and rummaged into a drawer, muttering to himself. “Know it’s here. It fucking better be here, yes!”

Wade came back and he almost purred as he palmed Peter’s ass again. “You were so good, staying put like that, Petey. Do you know how sexy you look like this? Your shirt on and your bare ass out, just for me?” He leaned in, voice a hot breath on the back of Peter’s neck. “Say, yes, Mr. Wilson.”

Peter closed his eyes in embarrassment. “Yes, Mr. Wilson.”

“So...good.” Peter was rewarded with another approving pat.

Fingers reached between his legs to toy with his balls causing Peter to shudder in reaction. “Petey, have you ever actually done this before?”

“Been fucked by my gangster boss at work?” Peter gasped out as Wade cupped his balls in one big hand, massaging gently.

“Oh, sass, cute, but no. Have you ever been fucked at all?”

“Yes,” Peter gritted out because his dick was hard and, could they just do this without embarrassing questions about his minimal sex life?

“How many?” The question was mild.

“I...two. One in high school and one in college.”

He heard Wade’s muttered, “I should fucking hunt them down and…”

Peter twisted in alarm. “You’re not really going to,” and found himself pressed back down onto the desk. 

“Kidding! Totally not thinking about unaliving both of those fuckers as long as they were good to you. Were they?”

Peter assessed the calm question, thought about Harry who had been amazing until he wasn’t and Quentin who had turned out to be an epic idea stealing asshole and decided neither of them deserved the wrath of Wade Wilson. “They were both fine.”

“Hmmm…we’ll talk about them later.”

Peter heard Wade opening something, was semi-expecting it when a finger, slicked with lube, pressed into him but he still let out a whine of need and surprise. 

“Ohhh, Petey, fuck, you don’t know. I’m going to do such terrible, terrible things to you.” A second finger joined the first and Peter closed his eyes both at the sensations and in relief because he’d half expected Wade to just bend him over and shove in which, maybe in porn sounded hot, but in reality sounded really, really painful. But Wade was prepping him carefully, stretching him out as he, oh, fuck…

“Oh, Petey, seriously, you don’t know what I want to do to you. I want to fuckin’ truss you up and stretch you naked on the bar, lay you out in front of me while I sit drinking my whiskey and play with you. Or, maybe I’ll have you under my desk, needy and wanting, sucking me off while I do my appointments. You’ll hear every single person who comes in, you’ll realize that all they’d have to do is walk over and they’d see you. I’d tease you in between meetings and you’d be helpless…”

Peter was flushed with embarrassment at Wade’s filthy talk even as every single nerve in his body seemed to catch fire. Wade wasn't even inside of him yet. He couldn’t hold back a whimper and Wade paused, “Oh, I like that, Petey. Do it again.”

A third finger penetrated and Peter couldn’t have contained the needy whine even if he wanted to.

“Wade,” he gasped out, hips bucking as Wade pushed in another finger and then withdrew, leaving him empty and aching and, “Wade, Mr. Wilson, please…”

And then there was a pressure against him, hot and hard and huge and his hands scrabbled against the desk as he felt it push in slowly, felt himself stretch, felt the pain, felt the need and…”Wade, Wade, Mr. Wilson, Wade, Mr. Wilson, Wade…”

By the time he was fully penetrated and Wade was sliding in and out of him, swearing compliments and filth all Peter could do was cry out Wade’s name and then he even lost that, reduced to whimpers as Wade slammed in and out, praising him, telling him every single terrible thing he wanted to do. Peter, desperate, tried to move a hand to touch himself but immediately one of Wade’s hands reached out and covered his, trapping it on the desk. “Nononono, Petey, you have to wait,” Wade crooned into his ear and Peter just sobbed at the need as Wade pushed in and out, in and out, in and out…

“PleasepleasepleaseWadepleaseMrWilsonplease…” Peter didn’t even know what he was saying when Wade finally reached around and took a firm grasp of Peter’s dick and then he was screaming, coming, shaking apart as he _ feltheard _ Wade’s own shuddering curses, the big body convulsing behind him, into him as they both came apart.

  


Peter was still shaking with fine tremors, sucking in air with panting gasps, when Wade straightened him up. The other man had tucked himself back in and looked put together in his expensive suit, making Peter feel like a wreck by contrast with his pants still pooled around his ankles and his body aching like it had just been hit by a Wade size train. 

“You okay, Petey?” Wade asked. Reaching out he cupped Peter's face, studying him.

“I...I think so. I think you broke my brain.” And his ass.

He watched Wade look over to stare blankly at the desk they’d just fucked on before the other man gave a violent shake of his head. “_Shit_. I’m never going to be able to get work done at this desk again.”

Wade’s comment—the fact that this encounter had affected the other man—made Peter feel better as Wade helped Peter step out of his pants and underwear, gesturing to a side door that almost blended with the wall. “There’s a shower in the other room.” He steered Peter toward it, half supporting him, half groping him. “Let’s get you cleaned up…”

That sounded good. And then maybe sleeping for…

“...so I can do that to you all over again.”

Peter almost stumbled. Oh, fuck. 

<strike>Epilogue</strike> Gratuitous post-credits scene 

Peter opened his locker, a little surprised that no one was there yet. Well, he was pretty early. 

He grabbed his black collared shirt that he planned to wear for his bartending shift and, turning, gave a startled yelp because Wade was leaning against the other bank of lockers, massive arms crossed, studying him coolly.

“Shit!” Peter rolled his eyes as his heart rate settled back to normal. For such a big guy Wade was ridiculously quiet when he wanted to be. “Wade, what…”

“So, Petey,” Wade cut him off, “before you start your shift I need to make sure you’re not wearing a wire.”

Peter’s mind blanked. “A...a wire? Like a...like a _ wire _wire?” He stared incredulously at Wade who was staring back with a bored, yet somehow threatening look on his face. Wade couldn’t actually think after...after everything, that he’d gone to the police? 

“Wade, what are you, you can’t think that I…”

“Just a precaution, Petey. Now, strip. I’m going to have to search you real thoroughly.”

Peter paused, nerves settling as he narrowed his eyes at the other man. “Wow. So this isn’t just an excuse to make me strip in front of you so you can feel me up?”

“That’s ridiculous, would I do that?”

“Yes! You would most definitely do that!”

Wade shook his head. “Peter, I’m trying to respect your privacy here but if you don’t consent to letting me check you for a wire, well, that’s suspicious. I may have to involve security. Have Dom come in here to hold you down while I look.”

Peter felt himself flush at the idea. Wade wouldn’t actually… “Wade, don’t be an asshole. The locker room is open to all the employees. I’ll...We can do your ‘strip search’ in your office.” Although the thought of doing a strip tease _ anywhere _ in front of the much bigger, more muscular and better looking man was intimidating.

Wade shook his head. Implacable. “Here, Peter. Now.”

Peter looked at him helplessly. “Wade, you…” he looked around the empty room, swallowing with nerves. “You, you at least locked the door, right?”

Wade smirked. “Did I?”

“Seriously, Wade, you locked the door, right?”

“Did I?”

“_Asshole_.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. Whew. Thank you all so, so, so much to those of you who enjoyed this fic and left kudos and comments to show the love. You are awesome *beams*. I never write and post this fast but this fic kind of consumed my brain the last week. I now have a lot of real life stuff to catch up on, lol.
> 
> Oh, also, I just realized this fic technically fits into my ‘Bar hookups’ series so I’m going to link it in there. Yes, yes, I feel perfectly justified in stretching that definition to fit.
> 
> Have a wonderful week, everyone!


End file.
